Bringing Emily Home
by Longbourn22
Summary: My version of how Emily returned to the BAU, before Season 7 starts.  The team is on a case and Hotch received a very pleasant surprise!
1. Chapter 1

I don't own CM series or its Characters.

This story will be in five parts.

Enjoy!

…

Bringing Emily Home

Part 1

As soon as the team arrived back at the BAU, Hotch rushed up to his office. There was a fax waiting for him on his desk as promised by his friend in the CIA.

He quickly scanned the fax, although not as quickly as Reid was apt to do, he tried to contain his anger. Taking a deep breath, he sat down on his chair and read the contents again, slowly.

His dark brow furrowed deeper as he tried to grasp the meaning of the missive; _she could not have sunk herself any lower than this! She ought to be persecuted!_

Hotch closed his eyes for a moment as he thought of the injustice of this situation. His mind was running at a rapid pace, so many thoughts jumbled together and it was a wonder he was able to sort them out. How close? She was so close to death! Now he knew who 'rat' in the Bureau!

_Damn you Erin Strauss! You are nothing but evil personified! It was a good thing you are no longer here or I would make your life so miserable you'd begged for mercy. And to think, I had offered friendship._

Opening his eyes, he looked at the desk clock, it was past 2am. It had been a long day and …the team was waiting for him.

He had to tell David something. Just not this, yet. And there was something he needed Dave to take care of.

…

He knew that his team was wondering about his behavior; he usually was the last one to leave the unit for the day or in this instance, night. But he was in a hurry to leave. There were things he needed taken care of.

Driving out of the parking garage of the Bureau, he thought of one person.

Emily Prentiss.

Yes, he was pissed at her for not telling him about Ian Doyle but then, she was such a private person, just like him.

Turning the table around, would he? Tell her if he was being targeted? No, he wouldn't. But still, he was her supervisor.

Hotch shook his head as he berated himself for trying to be self-righteous. Supervisor or not, he had never offered friendship closer than warranted as being part of a team. During working hours, he was their leader, friend, partner and someone to lean on but after work? He was a father. A struggling single father to his five year old son. Besides Dave, he hardly invited any of the rest of the team to his home for social call.

So, he hardly knew Emily Prentiss outside of work. He knew enough of what her personal file had written.

He didn't want to get any closer to her. Any closer would invite fodders for gossips within the Bureau and interoffice gossips traveled faster than the speed of light. He knew that if he were to be caught holding hands with a colleague, word would get around to the other end of the building before he released it.

Yes, he was a stickler for regulations. And he was steadfast where fraternization was concerned. He had seen many agents getting burnt by 'violating' that rule. He intended to stay at the Bureau as long as possible, light skirt or not. And damn it, Prentiss was a light skirt.

That was not saying that she was 'fleeting' around the Bureau, enticing the male agents. No, she was discreet as well and he knew that she did not mix business with pleasure with the fellas at the Bureau no matter how much they tried.

Oh yes, he had seen the male agents eyeing her appreciatively but she had paid them no mind at all.

He was glad about that as it would fall on him to lecture her about improprieties with male colleagues. He could imagine having one of those 'talks' with her in his office. He knew she would glare at him and tell him that it was none of his business and he would rebuff her, telling her that as her supervisor, he was obligated. And he could imagine her snorting unlady-like and rolled her pretty eyes up…

Hang on, since when did he regarded her eyes pretty? He must be objective. She was his subordinate.

Yeah right.

Back to the scene; she would be telling him that what she did outside of work was certainly not up to her supervisor to intrude, emphasizing sarcastically 'her supervisor' as she glared at him.

Damn, what a scene.

He hated lecturing her as she never took it as it was and nod in defeat. No, she would argue her points until she made him felt like a shit-head. He had to put on his most severe expression but then, she had been here long enough to know that that was just surface look. And she was right; he couldn't be angry with her for long. It would ended up being another hopeless lecture with her waving her hands at him, telling him that she would see him in the conference room for some case or another.

Damn. She was good.

And he missed her tremendously.

But now, he was able to get her back safely; maybe…hopefully.

_Let's be positive about it, okay Aaron?_ He thought to himself darkly.

Five minutes later, he was home. As it was too late to pick Jack up from Jessica, he left his son in the more than capable hands of his ex-sister-in-law. And thankfully, Jack adored his aunt and cousins.

Switching on the Banker's Desk Lamp on his desk, he unlocked the bottom right drawer that contained classified materials and a cell phone.

As Unit Chief, and now, interim Section Chief, he had certain privileges and one of them was the use of secure lines encoded into his cell phones.

This particular phone was the most secure, if Garcia ever got her hands on it…

Dialing a series of numbers etched in his memory, he waited for the clicks and tones before the ringing tone.

As soon as the recipient picked up, Hotch began to talk. There was no time for warm greetings as he launched directly his intentions.

Two minutes later, he ended the call. And as soon as he did, he pressed the send button and a second later, the entire conversation was deleted, never to be traced to this number or phone at all.

Placing the cell phone back into the drawer, he opened his briefcase and picking up the faxed sheet, he placed it into the drawer and after closing it, he locked it again.

He had memorized the letter already; Reid may have an eidetic memory, Hotch had a decent memory for such situation as well.

Flicking his right hand, he glanced at his watch; it was three in the morning already and he had been up 24 hours. He was tired but yet he was still slightly stoked at this news and … would she call?

Restraining himself, he stood up and turning off the lamp, he moved towards the bedroom when he heard his cell phone buzzed twice and silent.

He turned to look at his desk where he had left his primary phone when he sat down, even though it was dark he could make out the desk and walking to it, he picked up his phone and saw that there was no missed call at all.

Good, she was still safe.

Then he remembered; she usually called around midnight, Eastern Time zone but this was after 3am, three hours passed the usual check-in time.

She must have found out something that caused her this delay. Well, he had forgotten her check-in time as well.

He felt guilty for a moment; he should have remembered. He should have been concerned when she had not called at midnight. He had forgotten. He was preoccupied with the fax on his way home with the team.

Damn! What if something happened to her? And he just remembered, three hours later? That could be three hours too late!

Damn! He ought to be more careful, more aware, more…caring.

As he prepared for bed, he stopped in front of the mirror over the sink in his bathroom. The five o'clock stubble had doubled, his face looking scruffy and the bags under his eyes? Well, he couldn't help that. And he saw that there were some silver hair growing on both sides of his head, just above his ears; he couldn't help that either. This past year had been rough and this was the consequences. And he was not vain enough to contemplate about coloring his hair. _It adds character_, a feminine voice whispered in his head.

Frowning at his reflection he shook his head; talking to himself was okay but hearing voices, much less _her_ voice, yeah soon he would be committed.

Lately he had been thinking about her a lot more than before. Of course he would worry!

Goodness, the woman was facing a fiend by herself and from the injuries he had inflicted on her just before Morgan found her, Hotch shuddered as he tried not to think of what would happen if they were late.

No, she would figure a way to survive. She was that tough.

It made him admire her more. That admiration had grown gradually shortly after she had joined the team. Of course he didn't accept her readily but time and time again, she had proven to him that she was part of the team, that she belonged to the team, she was a profiler. Her skills matched that of Morgan, Reid and even himself, he admitted grudgingly.

She was tenacious. She was intense. She was dedicated.

Above all, she was loyal.

Recalling the debacle with Strauss, where that bitch had threatened to replace him with Emily, and to her credit, she stayed true to her team.

That was where it had started.

Hotch left the bathroom and settled down in his bed. Despite the fact that he was tired, he couldn't sleep. Not without imagining where she was and what she was doing.

Okay, he admitted to himself, he liked her.

No, that was not true; he liked her more than like. He was falling in love with her.

And she was not here to know. Thankfully she was not here; she would be a distraction for him. Then again, he wished she was back with the team so he could observe her, ensuring himself that she was all right, she was safe, and she was still single.

Oh hell, where did that come from?

Hotch groaned as he turned over, facing the other side of the wall. Closing his eyes, he pictured Emily's smiling face. She was sunny, happiness, and fun. Sometimes, she could be geeky funny but most times, her insights to the cases were balls on. Yes, she made up a very crucial part of the team. She was like another limb, the team a body. Her 'death' was like an amputation, the whole team aware of that missing appendage and trying hard to recover and moved on.

What made it harder was her picture on the wall of fallen agents. Her picture was slightly below than eye level and her brightness was glaring. He knew that Garcia never fail to stop whenever she passed the wall, her eyes sad and depressive. Only Morgan was able to pull smiles from her when he caught her staring at the photograph of Emily.

His mind wandered back to the present.

He sat up, giving up any attempt to sleep; his mind was full of unanswered questions and the one foremost in his head was Erin Strauss.

He couldn't understand the animosity from her, especially towards Emily. It seemed she had not forgotten or forgiven Emily for rejecting her offer to be the new Unit Chief, to take that position from Hotch. She had not forgotten or forgiven Emily for not 'ratting' on Hotch. She wanted to burn Hotch and the only weapon she thought she had had let her down.

So, what she had done now, what Strauss had done, was that revenge?

If Aaron could prove beyond a doubt that she did, he would burn her so hot that no one would want to touch her, much less hire her. In fact she would be spending the rest of her life in prison for such heinous crime.

She sold Emily out.

Aaron knew now, thanks to that letter from CIA, that Strauss was the so-call mole in the Bureau. She had released information to that murderer Ian Doyle. Even though she had not known it yet but she had inadvertently given information about his team whereabouts. She even provided video feed of the entire fifth floor of the BAU unit.

Hotch took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The implication was running in his head and begged to be released.

If he told the team, Morgan would be the first one to hunt Strauss down and goodness knew what he would do to her. Admittedly, he would not held Morgan back.

But no, ethically, he would not do it. He would turn her in, only if he had irrefutable proof. The letter from his CIA friend was not proof enough.

Dave would agree with him but Hotch was sure that Dave certainly wanted to her sink to the bottom pit.

As of now, this was out of his hand as CIA and DoD continued with the investigation.

Finally, Hotch was able to fall asleep; once again, his last thoughts were of Emily.

…End of Part 1…

So…let me know what you think…like it? Or not?

I wanted to tell my version of how Emily came back to the team, or especially to Hotch before Season 7 began!

Thank you!

Lizzie


	2. Chapter 2

Wow! The reviews on the first part were awesome! Thank you again to all who'd reviewed and to those who'd read it, thank you!

Here is part 2!

Enjoy!

…

Bringing Emily Home

Part 2

Despite the fact that he went to bed late, Hotch was up by 530am; his usual awake-up time.

He was at the office by 730am and nursing a large cup of steaming coffee. Staring at the never receding pile of files, he frowned at the innocent tray before picking up the top folder. It was a report done on a case in Missouri from Ashley Seaver.

This young agent had faced much trauma and throughout, she had survived. She had not turn to drugs or alcohol as was a typical behavior of surviving kin of serial killers.

Dave had done a marvelous job in guiding her throughout her childhood, all the way to adulthood. He had made it possible for her to attend college. Passing with flying colors, she elected to join the FBI. The same agency that put her father away for life.

Dave was so proud of her, like a father would be, for her choice of career that he had rushed to Hotch's office and told him of the news.

A proud father.

And agent Seaver, his by-proxy daughter.

He had kept an eye out of the girl and looked how she had blossomed. And now, she was with the team.

Granted, Hotch wanted her presence for that one case but she had made such an impression that he, SSA Aaron Hotchner aka Agent Hard-Ass, agreed to let her do an internship with them, under the guidance of Dave and Emily.

Emily.

Wherever his thoughts were, it always led back to her.

Had she made such an impact in his life?

Yes.

More than anyone ever had. More so than Haley.

He could not get enough thoughts of her. That was all he could do for now.

When she came back to the Bureau, he would be much more protective of her when the team was out of the field. That would be dangerous; for him, for her, as well as the team.

He liked her as she seemed so much like him; his other half?

No, there was no such thing.

Or was there?

Hotch tried to shut out his arguments and got back to his work but 'they' wouldn't quit his head.

Tossing the file back onto the tray, he turned on his laptop and checked his mail and eyes widened; he saw an encoded message slipped into a spam file. Transferring said file into the recycle bin which was actually a software for encryption files.

Decoding the file, he began to read, and read it again, just to be sure.

Hot damn! So close…he could taste the satisfactory air that was hovering on the edge.

She was going to go down, and all by herself. So deep down that no one will ever know what had happened to her.

No one, especially within the agency, liked a betrayer, a traitor! Sure, no one would miss her; her popularity was almost nil…one could put her name next to Osama bin Laden and everyone would agree about the placement.

If he could just jump up and gave a hearty yell but before he could utter a word, they would be wheeling him to the looney bin. Walter Reed Medical Center in Maryland would love to study him as a specimen.

But both investigative agencies were taking their time with this; they wanted to make sure there was no mistake. One flaw, everyone's career would die. Hotch was not permitted to talk to anyone. As an interim Section Chief, he would have the most obvious motive were he to mention anything about this to anyone.

The information he had received was to be destroyed as soon as possible; preferably within seconds.

His cell phone buzzed.

Five minutes later, he sighed as he stood up; another case.

He wished he had a whole day or maybe half a day to tackle his 'homework' but then again, serial killers and victims did not have timeline, nor do they cater to his needs.

.

As Hotch walked into his hotel room late that night after a fruitless search and profiling. The whole team was exhausted, dragging their feet towards their rooms. They had an early wake-up call.

The 3rd victim's family was arriving in the morning, the team wanted to be there, in the FBI field office, to receive them.

This would not be an easy interview as both parents were diagnosed with cancer. Talk about a triple whammy!

Times like this, he wished Emily, and even JJ, were still here with the team. Emily had a deep sense of compassion for the victims' families that they gravitated to her feelings and opened up to her.

It was always astounding to Hotch to watch her at work. She could get more than satisfactory answers and solutions than most agents, including himself. He figured it was the femininity that made most people felt somewhat safe. And that was no sexist remark, just an honest statement.

Thinking about sexist, his thoughts grabbed an image.

It was the field agent SSA Margaret Holden. She had set her sights on him.

Morgan and Dave were giving him subtle hints but Hotch glared at them, telling them to back off and leave him be. He was not interested in this SSA Holden.

She had not taken any hints at all. All day, since they arrived, she had been stuck to him like glue. At first he thought that she wanted to help, her staying by the side of the leader of the BAU team she had called upon but after half a day had gone by, he realized she had a big crush on him, much to the delights of his team. Even Agent Seaver was amused and had not done anything to discourage Agent Holden.

_It's going to be a long investigation!_ He thought miserably.

_Think happy thoughts…Emily…what she was doing at this moment…what was she wearing?_

He sat down on the bed and toed off his shoes. Just as he was removing his socks, he realized he was not alone in the room.

Alarm bells rang incessantly as he suddenly felt panicky; George 'The Boston Reaper' Foyet. But the feelings left as soon as it surfaced; Foyet was dead. He had single-handedly and bare-handedly beaten that bastard to death. He had watched the coroner and his team wheeled his dead body out in a body bag. He had to make sure it was him.

Then who was it?

Silently, he removed his weapon and raised it eye level, arm's length in front of him as he moved towards the bathroom.

As he slowly opened the door, he gasped when he saw the person inside.

…

"Geez Hotch! Put that gun away will you?"

Hotch was still in shock but he managed to lower his weapon, his hand pointing down, gun pointing the carpet.

"What? Haven't seen a naked body before?"

"I…you…um…" he tried to form some coherent thoughts together. Admittedly, it had been a very long while since he had seen a naked body, albeit a live one. But _her!_ He was not expecting _her_!

"Hotch, are you okay?"

Shaking his head, he tried to speak but he was still staring.

He had not seen her like this. And he was not disappointed.

In fact, he felt his body hardened at the delicious glorious sight of her. All his fantasies couldn't compare to this!

"Hotch!"

Finally, he came back down to earth when he heard her voice penetrated into his…fantasies.

"Oh…What are you doing here?" He asked as he holstered his gun.

She smiled, "Taking a shower! Look, I hoped you'd understand. I've been on the road for over three days…a girl can go so long without showers."

He raised his hand and waved at her, "That's not what I'm asking, you know that. And could you put something on? It's uh, distracting."

Reluctantly, he remembered he was a gentleman and sighing inwardly, he turned away from her and walked back to the bed.

"Just give me a minute." She closed the door.

Hotch, his exhaustion hit him, lay flat on the bed, staring at the bland ceiling and tried to think of why she was here. Not just in his room, but here.

It was not time yet.

True to her word, a minute later, she emerged from the bathroom. Hotch felt too tired to sit up, so he turned his head and looked at her. He wanted to be sure it was truly her and not a figment of imagination. He had been thinking about her a lot.

She was brushing her damp hair; she was wearing a plain white T-shirt and pajama bottoms. Bare feet.

Her face was bare of make-up and smiling and it made her even more beautiful in his eyes. He had to remind himself to breathe.

"So, you going to lie there or what?" she asked, her smile widened.

"Or what?" he asked.

She tapped her hairbrush lightly on the side of her right temple, "Well, I'm sure you'd want to get out of that pesky business suit and wear…oh, whatever you wear when you're chilling at home?"

Hotch frowned at her, "I don't chill at home, I relax. But you are right," he said as he sat up and reached for his go bag. "I'm going to change into something comfortable."

He grabbed some clothing items and looking at her, "Please, make yourself comfortable. I'll be but a moment and then we will talk." He moved pass her and quickly shut the door behind him in the bathroom. As soon as he was inside, he leaned against the back of the door and closed his eyes.

_Emily._

_She is here!_

_In my room._

And she smelled great; her perfume had changed. She no longer wore that feminine scent that was uniquely her all those times she worked with him.

This scent was just soap and shampoo. Nonetheless, she smelled great.

Opening his eyes, he looked around the small room and realized that the soap and shampoo she used was the hotel's complimentary items. Shrugging his shoulders, he straightened and began changing out of his suit and proceeded to brush his teeth.

More than a minute later, he came out and looked around and panicked; she was gone.

Was it his imagine that she was here? Was he that tired to have imagined she was here?

Dejectedly, he moved slowly to the bed.

Sitting down, he leaned against the headboard and thought.

But before an image of Emily appeared in his head, he heard the keycard slot clicked, and the door opened; he needed to ask her how she had a keycard to his room.

"Just me, Hotch!" she whispered loudly.

"I'm right here," he answered as she appeared around the corner.

"Hey! You're not tired are you?" She stood by the foot of the bed, a bag in one hand and a half eaten donut on the other.

"Where…?" he tried to ask.

"Snuck out real quick. There is a donut shop that catered to the police and it stays opened 24 hours except major holidays." She bit into it and began to chew, relishing the taste and texture. "God! I missed them."

Hotch chuckled; it wasn't often he got to see her looking as if she just had s…

_Banish that thought! They need to talk. Emily doesn't know about Strauss._

"Never knew I missed these fellas until I smelled them earlier on," she spoke and chewed at the same time. Hotch had a hard time following her.

"Oops!" her eyes widened, "Where are my manners…want one? These just came out from the fryer." she opened the bag towards him.

At first, he was about to shake his head, it was way past midnight but the smell was enticing and she did say it was fresh.

He nodded as she walked to where he was and sat down by him on the edge of the bed, he picked a fresh donut and began to eat.

"Good stuff, huh? Almost better than Krispy Kreme," she grinned as she pulled another one out and bit into it.

"Nothing beats Krispy Kreme," he said. "Although I have to say this is a close one. Thanks."

"Not a problem. It had been a while since I had eaten."

Hotch shook his head as he uttered softly, "Heaven forbade you missed a meal!"

"Huh! I heard that. I can deal without food for…" she frowned as she thought.

"Half an hour," he teased.

Emily's eyes widened, "Oh my god! You're teasing! You do have some sense of humor!"

Hotch watched her, "I always have lots of humor. You know this job sucks them up."

Emily sobered a little, "Yeah, I know what you're talking about. And sad to say, I do miss our team. I miss the rush to find baddies and put them away. Pretty sad, huh?"

"You forgot to mention kicking the shit out of them. Remember the couple of times I had to restrain you?" he asked, a smile appearing as he recalled those incidents.

Emily smiled, "Oh yeah! You were so mad at me, telling…no, yelling at me to back off. We didn't want to damage them."

"I didn't say damage…harm them before we could interrogate them," he defended.

"I was interrogating them," she mumbled.

"Well, many people, me included, felt that your techniques are a little too aggressive. They wanted to interrogate them verbally, not physically."

Emily shrugged her shoulders as she popped the last bit of donut, crumpled the bag and tossed it into the trash can by the night table.

And she yawned.

"I guess I should see about getting another room. You can have this one," Hotch said as he was getting out of the bed.

Emily held her hand up and blushed slightly, "Um, actually I um…"

"Emily?" Hotch looked at her and saw that she was blushing. "What now?"

"I told the front lobby that I was your…er…your wife," she almost squeaked her answer.

"My wife!" He yelled, he was wide awake now.

"Well, I had to figure a way to get to you." She flapped her hands as she began to pace.

"My wife?" He repeated, incredulously.

"Please don't keep saying that! I'm sorry!" she tried to look contrite.

"My wife? Why, of all…all bull crap, you came up with this grand idea?" he frowned slightly.

_Mrs. Emily Hotchner. Hmmm, kinda have a nice ring to it._ He thought

"Look, I need to see you. There is so much information, past and present that I'm sure you'd want to know. I left a lot of baggage behind and I'm sure you have lots of questions," she looked at him earnestly. "And this is something that is for your ears only. For the moment."

Hotch pursed his lips, thinking of what she had said.

Yes, there were so many questions. So many holes. And he was still pissed at her for not coming to him way long before this whole debacle started.

Hotch relented, Emily sighed when she saw the tension left him.

"You are staying?" She had to ask.

Nodding, he moved back to lean against the head board and patted the space next to him.

"We might as well be comfortable."

Instead of moving around the bed to get to the other side, she scrambled onto the bed and crawled passed his legs and settled herself next to him. A couple of inches apart, pillows piled up behind her back to provide a comfortable support.

Hotch arched his eyebrow as he watched her move on the bed and was reminded of a little boy doing exactly that when he couldn't sleep by himself.

"Comfy?" He asked when Emily finally settled down and stopped squirming around; just like Jack.

Emily chuckled as her head leaned back on the pillow, "Now I am."

"Okay. Talk to me. Tell me about this covert operation and how you were recruited. You are obviously a little too young for such operation at that time, who were your trainers? If I get my hands on him, I will wring his neck hard for getting you into that mess."

Emily's eyes widened listening to all these questions. The last one touched her; he cared for her and her well being even though he did not know her much at that time. She smiled at the implication.

And besides, the hard ass Hotch would not have sat down on the same bed with her. He would be sitting on the chair in the corner of the room as he listened to her.

For the next hour, Emily talked. Hotch listened. His brows furrowed deeply at some of the incidents, how harrowing and so dangerous for her. It was a wonder she had lived so far.

The notch of admiration for her rose higher.

"Your trainer?" He was determined to punish that idiotic person for willingly putting Emily in such a position.

"That would be Sean McAllister," she answered quietly. "He was a very good agent as well as a trainer. His death had hit me very hard, as well as the others."

Hotch felt a strange surge of emotion from the pit of his stomach when he heard her talked about McAllister.

Did she have some kind of personal relationship with this person?

Hotch chastised himself immediately; the man was dead.

_Why are you jealous of a dead person?_

Because that dead man knew more about Emily than he did, and he was envious of any man being so close to her.

As for her relationship with Ian Doyle, it had been very close and personal. The fact that she had taken it to a more than personal level astounded him. If the role was reversed, would he get to a suspect that close to get what he wanted?

Maybe. Whatever it took.

"I'm sorry about his death," he said.

She nodded; her head down, hands on her knees.

"It's not fair that I lived and he didn't. He warned everyone involved in the operation and tried to keep us save. It shouldn't be that way and his family too."

Hotch, impulsively, grabbed her left hand and held it, hoping to provide some strength.

Emily smiled her gratitude but she didn't look at him.

"I'm sure he'd done all he could. In the end, Doyle and his people got the upper hand. But you should let go. Doyle is dead…I would like to know how," he asked her as he lightly squeezed her hand.

Briefly, Emily told him.

Doyle had been searching for his son, Declan. He had used all the resources he had, including Clyde Easter. Emily, correctly guessing Clyde had betrayed her, followed him instead of hunting Doyle.

Doyle, fallen into the trap, believing Emily had died during their altercation, became complacent. He was confidently not looking his back, where she was hot on his trail. And he was alone.

The FBI took out most of his men, the few that survived were sent to find his son.

Doyle became frustrated and desperate and finally Emily saw her opportunity. And the end of the whole situation only took one bullet. True to her skill, it struck him right between his eyes. He died instantly, not knowing who or what struck him.

Her last words as she stared at his dead body, his eyes were still opened, "I hope you can see who killed you. And if you do, rot in hell, Ian Doyle. You will never find out where your son is. He is safe from a monster like you."

And she walked away, leaving Denmark and headed for home.

She hoped things would get back as normal as could be. She hoped that those she had deceived would forgive her.

She had hoped to close that whole chapter of her life.

As she yawned for the fifth time, Emily remembered something; it had been bugging her but she couldn't. It had been quite some time since she last slept. Since arriving back here in the country, she drove hell-bound to catch up with the team, specifically Hotch.

"There is something I need to ask you but I'm so tired…" her eyes finally closed as her breathing deepened.

"Emily?" Hotch shook her hand lightly as he looked at her; yep, she was dead asleep.

Watching her for a moment or two, Hotch realized he was not far from sleep. He thought about rearranging themselves under the covers but that thought floated away as he too closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep.

Through the early hours, they slept thus; on top of the covers, their hands clasped.

…End of Part 2…

You know what to do…that little button…

Thank you!

Lizzie


	3. Chapter 3

Bringing Emily Home

Part 3

Hotch's internal clock woke him at the usual time of 530am. He had been asleep for only an hour.

Fuzzy, he opened his eyes and saw that he was facing the wall on his left. Then he realized there was a warm body snuggled right behind him. At first he thought it was Jack. But then this was not his bedroom, he was in Connecticut, in a hotel room.

Then who…

Ah, Emily.

Sleepily, he smiled as he recalled last night. Oh, did he dream that she was completely nude?

No, well, yes; she was naked post shower in his bathroom and in his dreams not too long ago. It was a very happy 'home coming' present from her.

And now, feeling her warm body right behind him was another kind of home coming for him.

He sighed. As much as he wished he could stay like that for a long while, the case at hand reminded him that such indulgence was not appropriate for the moment.

Wait till they were done.

Reluctantly, he slowly scooted out from his side of the bed. Not needing to turn on any lights, he picked up his go bag and made his way to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, he stepped out of the shower stall and began to towel dry, his mind running a mile a minute; the case, Emily, Strauss.

Did Emily know about Strauss' involvement?

Probably not or she'd have mentioned it. Or was it that something she wanted to ask him before she fell asleep?

So many questions.

As he reached for his go bag, the door opened.

And Emily shrieked!

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I thought you had left!" She was staring at him blatantly despite the deep blush on her face; eyes wide awake now.

Instead of feeling self conscious at his state of undress, all he could think of was the irony.

He chuckled as he said, "I guess this is payback?" He shook his head as he grabbed the damp towel and wrapped it around his waist, thinking of last night's nice little surprise.

Speechless, Emily shook her head as she closed the door but not before he saw her glanced at his bare torso with a hitched eyebrow and smiled shyly.

_Well, I'm glad someone still appreciated my body._

Shaking his head, he reached for his bag and continued his toiletries; the image of a shock Emily stayed on his mind while he shaved.

When he came out, fully dressed except for his shoes, he saw Emily pacing about the room.

She whipped her head and Hotch saw her relief.

He grinned knowing that she was afraid to see him still undressed.

"I guess I should announced before I come out that I'm decent," he teased her as he moved pass her and placed his go bag in the closet.

"I'm so sorry Hotch. I honestly thought…"

He cut her off, saying, "No need. I should have locked the door. So the fault is as much mine as yours."

Emily shook her head, "Okay. You are right. I guess we're both not used to each other in one room. I'll get a new room as soon as I'm dressed."

Hotch stopped on his tracks, "Emily, I thought we went through this. It would be awkward. You will be staying here while I'm gone."

Emily frowned.

He saw her expression and reasoned, "You know right now, you should not be out and about. This is a small town. One of the team will spot you and at this mo…"

"Moment, it's not good," she nodded her head, agreeing with logic but still…

"Look, if it will help you while away the time and I know you don't like sitting around not doing anything, I'm leaving all the files and information about this case. You are at this moment an advisor. I would like to hear your input on this."

Emily warmed, "Thank you Hotch. I love to help. And you are right, sitting around will drive me bonkers."

"Don't leave the room. Order room service."

Nodding her head she watched him tied his shoes.

Suddenly, she felt as if they were in a domestic relationship. As if her status as Mrs. A. Hotchner was real.

"You okay?" He asked when he realized she was silent; she was hardly ever silent.

Moving her eyes from his shoes to his face she shook head.

"It's nothing. This almost looks too domestic."

Hotch stood up and moved to the nightstand and collected his phone, badge, gun and keys and turned to her, "Yeah, it does. But," he suddenly grinned, "we would have a bigger bed than this!"

_Crap! Did I say that out loud?_ He closed his eyes in disbelief.

Emily giggled.

He opened his eyes and tried to glare at her but seeing her laughing face, he gave up and grinned, shaking his head.

"I'll hold you to that…Mr. Hotchner." She teased.

Opening his briefcase, he laid out the files and closed it back.

"Here's the files and what we have so far. Your phone number is not the same, right?" He asked as he pulled out his.

"No. It's E. Hotchner," she said bashfully as she grabbed hers from the desk by the window.

Hotch was checking on his phone when he heard the name and snapped his head to her, "E. Hotchner? Not very covert, isn't it?"

"Well, Ian is dead and there's no reason to hide anymore and technically, Emily Prentiss is dead too. If I revert back to my name, it might alert someone or Garcia." She said as she gave him her new phone number.

Hotch nodded, "Yeah, you're right. Your old number is tagged, just in case Doyle tried to get a hold of you, by chance."

"I'll change it back…no, I guess we'll have to figure something out," she agreed.

"When this case and when S…" Damn, there was no time to explain to her about Strauss, he had to get going or one of the team would be knocking at his door soon.

Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Look, when I get back tonight, we'll talk and I think I know what you're going to ask me last night. But it'll take too long. Just hang in here and go through the files. Is that okay?"

"Of course. And thanks for letting me 'in'."

Hotch smiled, "I'll see you tonight." He grabbed his briefcase and nodded once to her and made his way to the door.

"What?" Emily smiled, "No kiss goodbye?"

Hotch gave her a look and she laughed, waving her hand.

"I'm just teasing. You know that. Have a great day at work, sweetie!" She jogged into the bathroom and closed the door.

_Minx!_ He shook his head as he left the room, making sure the door clicked to shut before he moved on down the hallway, towards the elevators.

If she didn't rushed and hid in the bathroom, he might be tempted to walk to her and actually gave her a kiss, just to show her.

"You are smiling and it's too early. Must be some hot dream!" Dave's voice came from behind him.

"And a good morning to you, too," Hotch straightened up. He knew that Dave was too shrew to figure things out fast and he was tenacious if things bugged him.

Dave stared at him with suspicious.

_Damn!_

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Just had a good night's sleep that's all," he tried to make it sound his usual brisk manner.

"Hmm. Is it that Agent Holden?" Dave teased his friend.

Hotch glared at him hard, "Dave, you know me better than that. That's a sexual harassment waiting to happen. And you know I don't go for that type."

Dave shook his head, "Aaron, I'm pulling your leg. And she's not that great looking either. Word has it that she's in for you and she's not going to take no for an answer, so watch out for her, my friend."

Hotch looked at his friend, "Thanks, I will. I didn't know she talked to others about her…intention."

"Oh, she talks all right. Agent MacDonald got an earful of how wonderful your ass looked. And other attributes. Make no doubt, that woman will cause trouble."

"Guess I'll have to keep an eye out for her."

Dave nodded, "So, who then?"

"Who?"

"Your good night sleep."

"Dave…" Hotch shook his head, wanting Dave to drop the subject.

"Okay, I'll let you to it. How about breakfast? It's still a little early; the restaurant downstairs should be opened for breakfast and lots of coffee."

Hotch nodded, "Coffee sounds good and an omelet couldn't hurt either." He knew that if he said no, Dave would get more suspicious and he couldn't know about Emily just yet.

As the elevator arrived and opened the doors, Hotch was wondering what she was doing at the moment. Probably ordering breakfast for herself.

He felt guilty for leaving her. And ordering her to stay put. And now, she would be eating alone.

No, he shook his head mentally; she would be reading the files now. She couldn't resist mystery and intrigue. She would go through all the files and then realized she was hungry.

She was just like him; something new, he would read about it before thinking about sustenance.

Mrs. A. Hotchner. He recalled what she told him last night.

And this morning; Emily Hotchner. That sounded just right.

"Aaron? You okay?" Dave asked as he watched his friend. Hotch had became quiet; they usually brainstorm at the spur and he was expecting his young friend to ask his opinion on the current case but his friend seemed to be thousand miles from here.

Something was up. And he was obligated, to himself, to figure Aaron out or his name is not Dave Rossi!

…

It was near lunch. The interview with the parents went well, considering their health issues and the tragedy of their only child. There would be nothing to pass down for that family. No future generations; it died when their daughter was murdered. It made the team much more determined to find the killer, just to put their minds at ease. A closure and when they passed on, it would be a peaceful one where they believed that their daughter would be waiting for them on the other side.

Hotch received a phone call from Emily. He smiled when the Caller ID read Mrs. A. Hotchner.

"Um, am I interrupting something?" Agent Margaret Holden stood by the door.

Hotch looked up and shook his head, "Just reading a text. Did you need something?"

Agent Holden smiled, "Well, it's near lunch, I was wondering if you have any lunch plans?"

Hotch saw the 'claws' trying to sink into him; he remembered Dave's warning about her.

"No, what do you have in mind?" He asked wearily.

Seeing this was her chance, she walked into the room and stood near him, "We have the usual various ethnics cuisine; Chinese, Italian, Greek, and Mexican."

Hotch thought for a moment; he wanted to swing by the hotel and maybe have lunch with Emily but he didn't want to seem rude until he saw the guys in the team hovering around a coffee maker.

"Mexican. We traveled so much and most times it's Chinese or fast food so I think Mexican sounds great."

Margaret's eyes sparkled, "Oh great! I love Mexican food. And I know just this restaurant that makes some wicked Fajitas. Rosalita's."

Hotch nodded, "Okay, Rosalita's it is."

"Super! I'll grab my jacket and we'll head out." She left the room hurriedly; she couldn't believe the tall, hot and handsome SSA Hotchner was going to lunch with her! Could she chalk this up as a date? And he was single. Oh yeah, that was the first thing she had checked out when she saw him the very first time and drooled. Feeling excited, she quickly rushed to her office and picked up her jacket from the guest chair where she had tossed it when the weather was warming and mainly she wanted SSA Hotchner to really take a good look at her…and her assets.

She took pride in her twins 36C and her behind, when she wore slim skirts which she was wearing one right now, emphasized them. Oh yeah, she was damn proud of them! She knew the other members of the BAU team had checked her out behind her back and she knew they had appreciated the view, like other men in this building.

But it was Hotch she wanted. And she always got what she wanted. Always.

Her inflated excitement was shot down two minutes later when she met him at the lobby, along with Agents Morgan, Rossi and Reid.

There went her fantasy of dining alone with Hotch.

"Ready?" Hotch asked, albeit innocently.

Margaret tried her best to tempt down her ire and nodded, putting on her pleased face for him.

"Yes, I am. Let's go."

Dave and Derek grinned behind her; they saw her angry expression and knew that Hotch had played her.

Derek couldn't fathom why Hotch was not attracted to her; he was and wouldn't mind getting to know her more but he saw that she had set her sights on Hotch. He had never threaded on other man's woman even though she was not one, yet.

Dave was thinking that she was in for a comeuppance from Hotch; no one got the better of him.

At the restaurant which was a small quaint building that when you stepped in it, you felt as if you were in Mexico! The ambience and music were from that ethnicity.

And the rich smell of Mexican food was immediately appreciated by the team when they entered and was led to a table setting large enough to accommodate them.

"I hoped they make a decent Chimichanga! I loved that green sauce they put on it," Reid lifted his face up to breathe in.

Margaret made sure she was sitting next to Hotch.

As he sat down, he felt his phone buzzing in his jacket.

It was a text message from E. Hotchner. He almost smiled but remembered where he was at.

E. Hotchner wanted to know if he was coming by for lunch.

Sighing inwardly, he typed back, informing her that he, the team and the senior field agent were having lunch at a Mexican restaurant.

Less than a minute later, she replied; who was this 'senior' field agent and what did she looked like?

Hotch almost laughed a loud; trust her to see him through.

He typed his answer, admitted to her who the agent was.

"Who are you texting?" Margaret asked softly, trying to sound as if she was privy to his personal situation.

Hotch looked up at her and saw that she was sitting a little too close to him. He frowned slightly; _didn't she know about my issues with personal spaces?_

"Um, this is a private matter."

Margaret blushed as she nodded her apology and picked up her menu.

"Jessica?" Dave asked.

Hating to lie to his friend, he nodded, "Yeah, she was telling me what Jack had done when some neighborhood kid tried to bully him."

Dave smiled and asked for more information but the waitress arrived to take their orders.

After they had ordered, they discussed about the abhorrence of bullying and how to reform the bully and how prevalent throughout the country bullying was.

Margaret tried to join in but realized that their combine minds was too much for her, she settled down and listened to their discussions from one topic to another, and most times, it took her a while to realized that they had moved on to another topic.

She was never gladder when their food arrived.

Even though she felt awkward, she managed to inject some insights to the comings and goings here in this city; she was born in a neighboring town and her friends and family were here. This was her home turf.

Reid drilled her on the geography, economy and the market surrounding the area.

While Reid and Margaret talked, the other men discussed the case.

Half way through their meal, they received a call from the local PD; another body was found with the same method of death, she was beaten beyond recognition, and only a partial jaw was left behind, enabling the crime lab to identify her. Her parents had reported her missing a month ago.

The other victims were found after they were reported missing over three months ago.

"He's escalating. I guess the gig is up," Dave commented as they left the restaurant, heading to the crime scene.

As Derek was driving, Hotch was able to fire a quick text to Emily about the latest.

Time was now of the essence, if UnSub dumped this body less than a month after the fourth one, he might be doing it again, and it would be soon.

Spending the rest of the afternoon until near late in the evening looking through the crime scene and at the morgue, the team headed back to their hotel rooms, beaten.

Entering his room, he glanced around for Emily and smiled tiredly; she had fallen asleep across the bed, the files, her notes and photos on either side of her.

He quickly picked up the paperwork around her before rousing her.

"Emily, wake up."

Emily opened an eye and saw that he was sitting next to her. She smiled as she had the most pleasant dream where she and Hotch had become more than friends, he was kissing her in the gentlest manner and her heart was beating fast.

Waking slowly, her expression was soft and Hotch took a deep breath; she looked so vulnerable and the urge to kiss her was foremost.

"Hey," she greeted him.

"Hey yourself. I hate to wake you but you need to readjust your sleeping position," he got up reluctantly, giving her room to move.

Emily looked about her and realized she was sleeping crossway and leaving no room for Hotch.

Standing up, she stretched up and Hotch saw quite an expanse of bare skin and her belly button. An inney!

He thought it was the cutest thing on her until he spotted the scar. Her altercation with Ian Doyle before she 'left' the team had caused her a really nasty wound to her abdomen. The doctors in the emergency room had to operate on a larger area, to ensure there were no splinters from the broken wooden leg left inside of her.

Emily froze when she saw where Hotch was staring at and hastily pulled her T-shirt down, covering her scar.

Hotch snapped his eyes to hers, "I'm sorry, it was just…there."

Emily shook her head, "That's okay, it's just that I'm not use to anyone looking at it. I'm still adjusting to it myself. It's ugly and I don't wear a bikini anymore."

Hotch shook his head, "You should see mine…" he stopped suddenly. His reminded them of the horrors and consequences George 'The Boston Reaper' Foyet had left when he came for Hotch. The team, as well as Hotch, had not forgiven themselves for letting that bastard done what he did to Hotch. All were glad that he no longer bothered anyone anymore, just the scars, both physically and mentally.

Now, Emily had her own horrors. And it felt good to know that she took care of the man who had haunted her for a long time.

But it was quickly forgotten on Hotch's part as she also mentioned bikini.

Damn! What a waste. He admitted to himself that Emily had a great body and to see her in a bikini? Oh hell yes! Any red-blooded breathing male would certainly die happy to see her in a bikini! But then, the added boon for him was that he had seen her without bikini…in the buff! That particular image kept popping into his mind often.

"Hotch? You okay?" she saw a range of emotions running across his face and knew what he was thinking of. That bastard Foyet! Even though it had been more than 2 years, his ghost would forever haunt Hotch. Damn Foyet!

But then the last emotion…it looked as if something had pleased him as she could see his eyes dilating and a small grin appearing but then he wiped them as he replaced them with his usual stern feature. What she would do to know what he was thinking about.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He nodded his head.

Then he felt the impact of the day hit him suddenly and sighing, he moved to the closet to retrieve his go-bag and looking at her, and indicating his briefcase on the table, he said, "I need to take a shower, to get rid of the mess our UnSub left behind. The file on today's case and photos are in there, if you're up to it, take a look at them or you can wait till tomorrow. The crime scene was more awful than the previous ones. It's as if he was angry about something and took it out on her."

Emily nodded her head, and moving to his briefcase, "I'll take a glance right now but tomorrow I'll go through it slowly. I'm still sleepy and tired from the car trip"

Hotch stood by the bathroom door, "Yeah, I'm pretty bushed. Shower and then I'm hitting the bed too. See you in a bit."

Fifteen minutes later, when he emerged from the bathroom, feeling cleaner, he saw that Emily had once again fallen asleep, this time under covers.

Switching off the lamp, he crawled to his side of the bed and restrained himself from the urge to kiss her, he settled down and before he realized it, he was fast asleep.

...End of Part 3…

Thank you! Now…let me know!

Lizzie


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4..getting there! I would like to take this chance to thank HGRH35 for beta'ing this Chapter...it looked heaps better! Thank you!

And to those who'd reviewed, thank you and to those reading this, thank you so much!

I do not own CM series or its characters.

Enjoy!

...

Bringing Emily Home

Part 4

As Emily was examining the photos of the latest crime scene, she marveled at the level of rage the UnSub laid on the latest victim. She was barely recognizable. She was found in the park by a man walking his dog. Actually, the dog found her. Its owner was visibly shaken over the find.

Local crime unit was able to confirm her identity through the teeth found in the lower jaw and to the Driver's License they found on her. Going through her apartment, they took several pictures; living room, kitchen, bedroom and bathroom. Nothing seemed out of place, her apartment was neatly kept. Just like the other victims.

It was the contents on the coffee table that caught her eyes.

There were a few magazines; the popular home and tabloid magazines on the table and a newsletter.

Going through the other victims' living room, Emily saw that even though the magazines were different, there was one item that was the same in all the victims' living room.

It was the newsletter and upon examining further, she saw that it was the town's newsletter, all about events or things of interest for the denizens of the town.

Feeling something tingled inside her stomach; an indicator to her that something was up, she quickly fired a text message to Hotch.

Less than a minute later, her phone buzzed; it was Hotch.

Her heart beat fast when she answered.

"Hey," she greeted him.

"Hey. I think you've something here. I'm getting Garcia to look into the newsletter. This might be a big lead. I knew you'd see something we wouldn't." He complimented her.

Emily smiled widely, "Hey, we are a team even though I'm not there physically."

"Yes, I agree. Uh…I'll get back to you when something comes up. Hang on a second."

Emily heard a muffled voice, female by the tone.

She knew that it must be that senior field agent Hotch had mentioned earlier. Emily grinned to herself; the agent must be very persistent in her 'chase' to get to Hotch.

"You still there?" Hotch came back to the phone, this time he was talking softly.

"I'm here. Is that the agent?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Is she still there?" She asked again when his reply was short.

"Yes."

"Okay, I guess we should get off the phone. Hope that I'll hear from you soon?"

"Yes."

Emily laughed. "She's that close to you, huh?"

"Yes."

Emily continued laughing, "Okay. I'll get off now. Don't let me hold you up."

"Okay. Talk to you later."

"Bye," she giggled.

"Bye."

Emily pressed the 'end' button but her grin remained.

Looked like his hands were full; she wished she was there to watch this agent making her moves on him; it would be like trying to move a wall.

Then again, said wall was beginning to crumble around her though. Emily thought about the past couple of days since she appeared in his hotel room. He had been nothing but understanding and a calm to her storm.

She knew that Ian Doyle was dead but that didn't mean all was well as he had a few loyal followers. Those followers had sworn to follow his lead. Rylan McNeese, Ian's third in command, had once told her that ten years ago, they were under some heavy fire with the British army, Ian wanted to be out front but his followers wouldn't allow him. They had reminded him that he was a very valuable asset to the IRA and they would do their best to keep their leader alive as long as they could, hopefully to the day the IRA were the stronghold in Ireland, not the bloody Brits!

True loyalty. Now, that particular group had mostly disbanded, some joined other factions. It was those in the other factions that had her worried, she was still watching her back wherever she went. She remembered the drive back to the States via Canada, the number of cars she had switched. Smiling, she remembered getting a ride with a female truck driver, making a delivery from Montana to Arkansas. It was a fun ride all the way through the central States and marveled at the scenery nature was able to show off before some industrialists decided to hack off most of the forestry found in Montana.

The fun ride stopped just near Arkansas. The truck driver, Judy, thought Emily swung the other way and tried to make a pass. Emily, after she managed to let Judy off gently, high-tailed to the nearest car rental and leased a car and drove towards Mississippi. And since, she had been leasing vehicles, using her alternate alias, Megan Fells. She wondered where JJ obtained these falsified documents but she was also grateful to her best friend for that foresight.

True loyalty.

That was what the BAU team was to each other. She showed her loyalty to Hotch. He saw that and was much changed since and had been much more trusting in her.

Now was the time he showed her his loyalty as her boss and supervisor, and hopefully as friend.

They hunted Ian Doyle. Even though they lose him, they found and saved Emily. Yes, JJ and Hotch were the only ones who knew she was alive but it was a necessity; for the safety of the team, Emily had insisted she be declared dead. Doyle would not give up getting a hold of Emily again if he knew she was still alive, thereby endangering the team and Declan.

Declan.

Under Interpol's protection, Declan with his Nanny, was nowhere Emily would have guessed he would be, and if she didn't neither would Ian.

She sighed as she stood up from the bed she was sitting, studying and taking notes on the current folder.

It was going to take a very long while to recover this ordeal. She needed to forget about Declan. Let the little one lived a life as it should. If she were to appear suddenly in his life, it would certainly disrupt him. He was very young when she met him, hopefully by now, age about 13 years old, he would have forgotten who she was and even Ian Doyle. He would not be his father's son. He would not grow up the way his father wanted him to be; a warrior. Ian's brand of warrior.

As she was looking out the window but not seeing what was out there; her mind still in the past, she was snapped out of her reverie when she heard the keycard slot activated, indicating someone was about to come in.

Emily quickly grabbed her gun where she had placed it on the table and aiming it at the door, her heart racing.

...End of Part 4…

Let me know! One more part to go.

Lizzie


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to all who had read every chapter and also to those who reviewed!

And thanks to HGRH35 for your relentless 'nitpickingness' where in if it weren't for that, it would not look as good as it is now! Thanks a bunch!

Ah…and now the conclusion…

.

**Bringing Emily Home**

Part 5

_Not again!_ Emily thought. _He's dead! He's dead!_

She kept that chant running through her head as she pointed her gun at the door.

But as the door opened, she sighed in relief as she lowered her gun, hands shaking.

Hotch looked at her in surprise; he knew what she was thinking about; Ian Doyle by her wild looks in her eyes.

_Stupid! Stupid!_ He should have called her, giving her the heads up; he could have been shot! She was very accurate with her weapon.

"Hotch!" She exclaimed as she tucked her gun into the back of her jeans.

"Yeah. I'm sorry Emily. I should have called ahead."

Nodding, she said, "Yeah you should. You'd be meeting your maker right now if I hadn't hesitated."

Hotch widened his eyes at the implication, "You hesitated, why?"

That was not the question she had expected him to ask, yet again she was not surprised he did. He always looked at things outside the box.

"I kept telling myself he was dead, that it couldn't be him. And hoped that it might be you."

Hotch nodded as he approached her. "You're right. I am glad you hesitated."

The need to change the subject was forefront, so she asked, "Why are you here? What's happening?"

"I decided to have lunch here." He stated simply.

Suddenly, Emily knew the reason and couldn't resist.

"Is she still plaguing you?"

Hotch nodded his head. "She was wherever I was. Even lunch yesterday was unbearable with her sitting so close to me. You know me and spaces."

She nodded; everyone in the team knew to not crowd him.

"I just had to get away. I told the team I had forgotten a file from my room and here I am. I was so focused on avoiding her that I didn't think of calling you. I'm sorry."

"Hey, no need. If I was in that situation, I think I would probably react the same way."

He nodded then looked at her, "So, what's for lunch?"

Emily grinned as she picked up the hotel restaurant menu and passed it to him.

…

An hour and a half later, Hotch's phone buzzed. It was Morgan.

"Hotch! Where are you?"

Hotch curved an eyebrow at Emily who was sitting opposite from him at the table, empty plates and files surrounding the table.

"I'm sorry Morgan. I must have dozed off in my room. Has something happen?"

Hotch listened and nodded as Morgan briefed him on the latest.

Snapping his phone shut, he stood up, "We have him. The UnSub."

Emily stood as well, "Oh?"

"You were right. It was the editor of the newsletter. Crime lab is at his apartment. Morgan said that he had been stalking these women since they subscribed to the newsletter. I have to get back to the field office for interrogation."

Emily nodded, glad that this case was over.

"Emily, I can't thank you enough for your help…" He held out his hand, "Let me finish. I know you're going to say about teamwork and we _are_ team but really, this was something we had glaringly overlooked. And would have still been wondering when he is going to strike were it not for you. So, thank you."

Emily blushed slightly, "Hotch…I," then she stopped as she saw his expression and relented, "You're welcome."

Hotch nodded as he put on his jacket that he had taken off when their lunch arrived.

"I'll see you later. And I'll try to remember to call before I come in. Don't want another repeat and don't want to risk finding out how fast your reflex is."

Emily smiled, "Gee, thanks!"

Hotch grinned as he looked at her one more time before he left, the door quietly shut and locked when he walked down the hallway towards the elevator.

His mind went back to earlier; he had thoroughly enjoyed his lunch. They had a lively discussion about UnSubs and the methods and patterns used. Some were quite predictable and yet, there were some that tested their minds.

It hadn't seemed long but before they knew it, lunch was over with Morgan's phone call. He didn't want it to end, their conversation. He found that he could freely express his opinions and whether she agreed with him or not, he was not upset as he listened to her. It was something he couldn't help, comparing her to his ex-wife, Haley. She on the other hand would purse her lips and shut down if he disagreed with her opinions. He sighed as he pushed the button to call up the elevator, since Haley was gone, he had not really bothered with the dating scene; truly, he didn't have the time for it anyways, what with work and his son whom he devoted his off work hours to.

Now, maybe, he had something to hope for. If she wanted to; he had felt the vibes from Emily and he knew that what he had felt, she did too. It was a good vibe. But after this case wrapped, after they were home in Virginia, they would talk.

And there were many things to talk about. The first being how they were going to explain her 'resurrection' to the rest of the team.

They had to inform JJ of her whereabouts. He was sure that JJ would be frantic by now as she had not received her weekly check up calls from Emily.

And then what?

He never liked uncertainty. He liked his 'I's dotted, 'T's crossed. Then again, why wonder? Why not take things as it come?

Especially if she was willing.

Emily Prentiss.

Who would have thought it was she that he came to like, wanted to know of and most importantly, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her!

He sucked in a surprised breath; where did that thought came from?

And the urge to turn around and went back to the room, to take her in his arms was strong. He had to take several deep breaths, quelled that feeling and stepped into the elevator car.

…

The BAU team managed to get a confession from their UnSub now identified as Eric Cranson. They found out that his stressor was a bad break up from his fiancée of three years. She had had enough of his controlling ways and wanted to leave but he had other ideas. Dave and Reid found that idea; the fiancée decomposed body was found in the basement of the apartment building he was renting from.

As it had turned dark when they finished with Cranson, the team spent another night in town before a sunrise take off back to Virginia.

Tiredly, Hotch and the team trudged back to the hotel; no one was interested in a celebratory drink at the local bar, invited by the field agents.

Hotch surreptitiously texted a quick message to Emily, letting her know he was on his way up.

"Good night all," he said as one by one, they stepped off the elevator to different levels. "Meet me at the lobby at 7.30am." He reminded them as the door closed. Dave's and his room were on the top floor and as they stepped out of the elevator, they said a bleary good night and moved towards their rooms.

Emily was waiting when he walked into the room; she was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Hey," she greeted him, her eyes sparkled at the sight of him.

He smiled at her and it felt as if he had not seen her for quite a while and had missed her much.

"Hey," he replied.

"How did it go?" She asked. As he took off his jacket, he gave her a quick summary of the interrogation.

Emily nodded when he was finished, "Well, we were lucky to have caught him before he moved to his next victim."

He grimaced as he recollected what Morgan had told him; at Cranson's apartment, there were photographs of another woman and he had admitted to them that she was to be his next victim.

Sighing a collective relief, they closed the case; the sheriff formally charged him and hauled him to the county jail.

At this point, Hotch's stomach rumbled loudly, he blushed slightly at the offensive sound.

"I take it you have not had dinner?" She asked.

He shook his head.

"Me neither. How about ordering room service?"

"That's fine. I didn't feel like going anywhere but this bed."

Emily grinned as she said, "Well, I get to have you for the rest of the evening?"

Hotch glared at her, "You are enjoying this too much."

"Yes! Besides this afternoon lunch which, by the way I had lots of fun, the only other person I saw had been the waiter delivering my food."

"I…" His replied was cut off by a knock on the door.

Emily perked and they stared at each other before she scrambled to the bathroom and closed the door softly.

Hotch walked to the door and asked who it was.

It was Agent Margaret Holden.

Shaking his head; he knew nothing good would come out of this.

Reluctantly he opened the door.

She smiled when she saw Hotch and saw that he had removed his jacket and tie and a small tuff of chest hair peeking from behind his shirt where he had unbuttoned a couple of buttons from the top.

She liked man with chest hair.

"Yes, Agent Holden?" He asked warily. He saw where she was staring and was instantly angered. Why couldn't she get the hint that he was not interested in her?

"Hotch… Aaron…I was wondering if you had dinner and if not, we could go get a bite to eat, I know this Greek restaurant that serves really authentic Greek cuisine."

"Agent Holden," he saw a flicker of anger in her eyes and knew that she was not happy that he had insisted on addressing her formally. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm just too tired and we have an early start, I'd like to get some sleep."

Pouting a little, she pushed the door wider and wedged herself in and sighing, Hotch let her in.

Pleased by her own insistence, she thought she had won a point. Be aggressive; she had always told herself and most times, she got what she wanted.

This delicious hunk of a man was really playing hard to get and the more he pulled away, the more she wanted to pull him back. And she always won.

"Agent Holden…"

She decided to be bold and cut him off by flinging herself to him and tried to kiss him. She knew that one kiss from her, no man would refuse.

Luckily Hotch saw that coming and quickly deflected her by holding her hands away from him.

"You are leaving right now."

"But Aaron…"

"It's Agent Hotchner. I have not given you permission to use my name."

"But…" she tried to tear up; it worked for her too.

"No. Leave now or I'll write you up for sexual harassment. And you'll not be working in a supervisory position ever again." He was furious she had not taken him seriously.

She tried to laugh but he was not reacting, so she glared at him, "You filing a sexual harassment on me? Who would believe you?"

Hotch replied firmly, "My team. They knew about you and your flirtatious manner. One of my agents over heard you describing me in a less than professional manner to other female agents in your unit. They heard you admitting to another agent that you'd sleep your way up if you had to, to get out of the field, starting with me. Would you like me to continue?"

Agent Holden stared wildly around, she was embarrassed; everything he had said so far was true and if he were to file a report on her, there went her career.

As quick as she came in, she shook her head and ran out of the room before he could say more.

Hotch leaned back against the wall as the door clicked and he closed his eyes.

"Hotch?"

He opened his eyes and saw Emily standing near him, looking at him worriedly.

"Yeah?" He closed his eyes again but opened them after a short moment.

"Are you okay?" She knew it was a stupid question but still it was necessary.

He straightened himself from the wall and approached her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. She was persistent and I had to threaten her."

"I heard." She replied as she moved closer and touched his arm. "You did the right thing, Hotch. There's no other way you can get around and that will teach her a lesson in tact. She is a walking sexual harassment. One of these days, someone will report her."

He nodded. And he was eager to change the subject.

"What were we talking about before she came?" Hotch asked.

Emily thought for a moment, "Dinner for two and something about the bed." She smiled cryptically.

He looked over to where the bed was and smiled. "Well, the bed will have to wait. How about you ordering for us, I'm going to take a quick shower and then we'll talk when the food arrives?"

Emily knew what that talk would be about and she nodded as she picked up the hotel room phone.

Hotch picked up his go-bag and headed to the bathroom.

It was going to be a long evening. But he was actually looking forward to the talk. He wanted to spend more time with Emily. He wanted to watch and listened to her voice when she talked. And yes, they had to inform JJ of this news. As well as the news he received from the Director earlier; Strauss was suspended, pending investigation on her involvement with the Ian Doyle case. Hotch was now interim Section Chief.

Hotch was glad as the case against Doyle, even dead, was still open; too many people, including a child, had died at his hands. Information in the Bureau, specifically the BAU unit had been compromised; especially security surveillance footage was released to him. That in itself was a serious crime against the Bureau. She was going to have her hands really full trying to answer the whys.

After that, the real talk; of him and her. What were her long term plans.

He liked to plan; he liked to be ahead of the game. And with Emily, even though he told himself to take it a day at a time, he still wanted to know about the long term. And he hoped she had the same mind frame as he. He saw the excited look on her face when he came back earlier. He saw the concerned look when she came out to check on him after Agent…whatever her name was…left. He saw the look of anticipation on her face when she reminded him of their earlier conversation about the bed.

"Hotch! I'm ordering chocolate covered strawberries and whipped cream, is that okay?" He heard her as he was stripping off his clothes.

What? Those are food for … that woman!

"Emily! No it's not okay! I want sustenance. Not appetizers!" He yelled back.

He shook his head when he heard her chuckled.

"Emily? Did you hear me?" No answer, just more laughing.

Damn that woman!

But then, he was not upset at her; he knew she was pulling his leg.

He trusted her. He knew she had ordered dinner…real food.

Right?

"Emily! You'd better order the right food or I'd show you what I will do with those damn chocolate covered strawberries!" He had a good imagination of them…and it had involved her in the nude, on the bed and sharing those damn strawberries…he grinned at his reflection when he recalled her naked body.

Oh yeah…

"Hotch?" He heard her called him from the other side.

Two could play the game, so he decided not to answer her.

"Okay…I've ordered grilled snapper, sautéed potatoes and asparagus. See, I remembered what you like…Hotch?"

Hotch chuckled, and then he stopped.

Looking down, he saw that he had stripped down completely. Grabbing a towel and quickly wrapped around his waist, he rushed out and went up to a shocked Emily and wrapped her tightly in his arms before he leaned in and kissed her surprised lips.

He suddenly needed to hold her. He wanted to feel her and most importantly, he wanted to kiss her senseless.

To hell with the shower!

And the heck with the talk; he preferred to show her instead.

Oh, he showed her. And she didn't reject him.

When she realized what he was doing, her heart sang as she began to return his kisses.

At last.

She had been surprised to see a half naked Hotch but she also remembered what his lower half looked like and she _really_ liked it. She tingled when she remembered.

And when he walked up to her and held her tight…she was shocked but it was not an unpleasant shock, just unexpected…especially from him.

She had seen the way he had looked at her, and when he saw her naked the other night and she saw the appreciation and admiration in his eyes. It didn't take a proficient profiler to know his feelings for her.

Oh yeah, she definitely felt the vibes between them.

She had had the biggest crush on him for the longest time, and it turned into woman crush or love. Yes, she had been in love with him for the longest time.

She hadn't dared tell him for fear of rejection; at that time he had never paid any particular attention to her so she chalked that up to non interest.

It wasn't much after Haley was gone that she thought he had been looking at her in a different way. He began to partner with her more and those times, he, in his subtle way, began to open up a little about himself and mostly he talked about Jack. She had accepted that, any out of work conversation was gold to her and she cherished those moments with him as she never knew when would be the next time or he might shut her out again.

No, he had been giving out hints she never caught on to but while she had been holed up in this room, and seen him in a more personal manner, her mind had been about him and all those hints came back and she realized that he was shy about actually doing anything, and figured showing her was more than enough.

Emily had smiled when she remembered…

…she was lying in the secured hospital recovery unit. She found out that it was CIA agents that were playing security guards outside her room.

Hotch had come in and his face paled when he spotted her hooked up in tubes. Slowly, he walked up to beside her and unconsciously, he reached over and smoothed over her bangs. She remembered the tingle she felt when he touched her.

And more tingles felt when he held her hand. She wanted to cry, to shed tears of joy to feel his compassion and care.

"Emily, I'm sorry I was not there to protect you. I'm sorry I didn't get there before he…" his voice cracked and he couldn't go on.

A pause when he tried to regain control.

"Emily, when you leave here…you will no longer be with us. You will be taken away somewhere far until Doyle is found. I wish I could be there with you, protect you more but this is for the best. Know that wherever you are, I'm there with you…in your heart."

He squeezed her hand gently and kissed her forehead before he released her hand and left.

When she knew he was gone, she released those heart wrenching tears. She wished she could reciprocate him but she had a breathing tube in her mouth preventing her to respond.

At that point, she told herself that when she took care of Doyle, she'd come back and tell him. She would let him know she knew how he felt and she would tell him how she felt for him…

…as he pulled slightly away from her now swollen lips, he was panting for air.

She smiled wider as she laid her hand on his face and cupped his stubble cheek and began to tell him of that night. And how she felt for him.

Hotch's heart contracted when he heard her confession. She loved him!

She really loved him…all those times!

Hugging her harder, he laughed.

Emily was surprised to hear him laugh…actually laugh. She thought to herself that he should do that more often and to think, she was the one that made it so!

…

A few hours later, it had gotten quite late but Hotch didn't feel exhausted anymore.

They had stopped for dinner but after hurriedly finished their meal, they continued showing each other how much each had meant to the other.

…

Two days later, Hotch held a meeting with his team.

He informed them of Strauss' suspension and her involvement with the Doyle case.

The team was shocked at first and then thought justice was now balanced. They thought regretfully that if it weren't for Strauss' betrayal, Emily would still be here with them.

Instead of his normal serious frown, Hotch broke into a smile which astonished all.

"Speaking of Emily…"

At that point, the conference room door opened and everyone gasped in surprise at the sight of the visitor…

… The End…

So, please let me know!

Thank you all for reading this story. I hoped you enjoyed it as well I did writing it.

Thank you,

Lizzie


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